The Concept of Denial
by heatqueen
Summary: Set after Minimal Loss - What Cyrus did to Emily is far worse than the team can imagine, but how can they help her if she won't even admit it to herself?
1. Chapter 1

**The Concept of Denial**

**Chapter 1**

Emily couldn't sleep again. It had been a long day at work and she was deathly tired, but she knew if she allowed her eyes to close she would only be plagued by the horrors of being in Cyrus' captivity. It was exactly a week since the team had returned from Colorado and the memory was painted fresh in her mind. But the team didn't have to know that.

No, all they had to see was the professional mask she wore every day without fail. They had to know, or at least think, that she'd moved on from the terrible event. She could never let them see what was going on behind the scenes; that she could barely make it through the day without crying and that when she got back home every night, only then would she allow the dam to break and the tears to flow.

Emily Prentiss just wasn't that pathetic.

It's not that she thought the team would think that of her. She could imagine their reactions already. They would all tell her that it was normal to feel vulnerable right now; that she didn't have to be strong all the time; that nobody would think any less of her for admitting to not being okay. It wasn't that she didn't trust them to be there for her as she knew without a doubt that they would be.

What stopped her from speaking out was an Emily Prentiss thing, because in the end it wasn't about what the others thought about her. It was what she thought about herself. And she couldn't bear to admit weakness to herself, not after her difficult childhood, not after years of beating it into herself that she was a survivor and could handle anything life threw at her alone. It was what she'd done for her entire childhood, wasn't it?

Then there was the other thing: the other secret reason why Emily refused to open up to anyone. It was the things the team hadn't seen and that she hadn't reported, things which Cyrus had done to her which were of the worst kind. Admitting to those things would definitely look bad, since as one of the best FBI agents in her field, she ought to have been able to do something to stop them. Not to mention she didn't want the others treating like a victim because she wasn't, she told herself. It was part of the job, all part of the job. No need to worry about it, right? Wrong.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, Cyrus had worse than abused her, but had borderline raped her. He would have succeeded if Emily hadn't been strong and defiant enough to throw him off her before he managed to enter her. But she would never forget the horror of having his filthy touch all over her, ripping away her clothes while she screamed in horror and fear; or the saliva of his kisses dripping down her body while his rough hands invaded her in intimate places. She would never forget the pain that rippled through her as he beat her down while she struggled to get free, causing her to cry out again and again as tears streaked her bruised face, her defences and facades completely gone as she was no longer able to take it.

Reid would feel so guilty if he knew. That was the other reason why she wouldn't report the incident, because the younger agent had been through enough already. She reasoned that he had enough to deal with as it was without having to bear the burden of her issues as well. Ever a selfless person, there was just no way Emily could bring herself to do that to him.

And so she lay, wide awake, gazing up at the ceiling and wishing there was some way to go back in time and simply undo the event. Because despite all her reasoning to keep it quiet, the silence was killing her and the pain just didn't seem to be getting any better. Every day she woke up early in the morning, screaming from her nightmares, feeling like it was only a few minutes ago that Cyrus had held her captive, and she wondered if she would ever feel like a normal human being again.

Tonight would be no different.

As she felt her eyes slowly close she jerked them open to stop herself from sleeping. It hurt the worst in her sleep because she was practically reliving the moment. Feeling herself drifting off again, she rolled out of bed and stood up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, thinking how stupid and scared she would look if anyone else had watched her do that. She went into the kitchen and boiled a pot of coffee, deliberately making it stronger than she liked. It was the only way she would succeed in staying awake. The coffee made, she went into the living room and switched on the TV, turning up the volume so that the noise would prevent her from accidentally falling asleep on the couch. She gulped the coffee fast, her body craving the caffeine.

This late at night there was nothing good on TV, not even the news, so she set it to some random channel and gazed into space while some old black-and-white movie played on the screen, trying to think of anything and everything other than Cyrus. The movie turned out to be a detective one, and she found herself watching in horror as the man on the screen started beating a poor, young woman and dragging her dead body into the woods.

Emily suddenly grabbed the remote control and switched it off. Her cheeks were wet.

It could have so easily been her, she realized in horror.

Then again she hadn't exactly been thinking of herself back then. If she had a choice she knew she would happily do it again so that Reid would not have to suffer in her place. Better her than him, she reasoned. She was older, more experienced, and better equipped to handle the trauma. Reid, though a genius, was still young and less experienced. It would have been worse for him.

But her reasoning was only a rationalization of denial. In reality she wasn't at all equipped to handle the emotional trauma, not with the way she kept pushing people away and insisting she was fine. But her denial was so deep that the reality of the situation didn't even cross her mind. Emily was absolutely, _absolutely_ convinced that she was able to deal with it.

Thus she walked into work the next day, a ton of concealer under her eyes to hide the tiredness, her professional mask in place and the trauma compartmentalized into a box in the back of her head - hopefully where it would stay for the time being.

Try as she might, she couldn't focus. Much as she had great acting skills it was becoming increasingly difficult to fight the exhaustion which came with forcing herself not to sleep. As she strained her eyes to analyze the pictures on the board, and re-read the case files to try and find connections, she constantly found herself fighting not to fall asleep at the table.

It was ten o'clock and she was already on her fourth cup of coffee. Her hands were shaking from the overload of caffeine but her mind was as weary as ever. It was as if she was in an illusion of being awake: her eyes were open and her mind was functioning, but somehow everything seemed unreal, almost dreamlike. Everything around her was too bright, the colours were too vivid, the noises were too loud, and her head was pounding. The words in the case file seemed to slur into each other and she found herself unable to take them in. She heard someone say her name but the voice seemed far off and distant, as though it was being carried through wind.

She blinked. Kneeling in front of her was Hotch with a concerned look on his face.

"S - sorry, what?" she stammered in response to whatever it was he'd been asking her.

"Do you need to go home and sit this one out?" Hotch repeated.

Emily shook her head in defiance. There was no way she was sitting anything out. Not only would she be bored, but if she had time to think she just knew the terrible memories would resurface. At least while she was working she was able to forget for a while.

"No. Absolutely not," she insisted in a harsher tone than intended.

"Are you su-"

_"Yes,_ I'm sure!" she snapped in response.

The whole room went silent.

The last thing she remembered was Hotch's face suddenly looking panicked before he darted towards her as she blacked out.

**A/N: Well what do you think? Should I continue? Please R&R! And feel free to leave ideas/suggestions!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey there guys! I am very pleased to say that due to the overwhelmingly positive feedback, I have decided to continue! So here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it as much as the last one. Thanks a MILLION to all who reviewed, I love you all loads!**

**PS: This is how I operate: When you guys R&R it keeps me motivated and happy, which equals faster and better updates. Feedback of both kinds, good and bad, also keeps me motivated to write well and helps me to understand what you guys want in the fic. So, in simple terms: MORE reviews = BETTER fic. XD (And higher review count lol)**

**Chapter 2**

_For a while she saw nothing. Then there came the nightmares. Emily was back in that cold, dark room and Cyrus stood there leering at her with his menacing grin. He grabbed at her and ripped her clothes off. She tried to fight back but found herself unable to move, just stand there frozen while he tortured her and abused her. She tried to scream but no sound would come out of her mouth._

"_Emily," he sneered as he moved his hands all over her and sucked her skin with his dry, cracked lips._

"_No, please stop!" Emily begged. "Please, you're hurting me!""Emilyyy," he moaned again. "Wake up, Emily…"_

_Wake up, Emily…_

Emily bolted upright as she awoke from the nightmare to find herself lying on the sofa surrounded by a bunch of very worried-looking profilers. As she slowly came to her senses, she buried her head in her hands, unable to look at any of them, and cursing inwardly to herself for her own stupidity for allowing this to happen.

JJ came and sat down next to her. The rest of the team, bar Hotch who was the unit chief, took this as their cue to leave and they filed out of the room, giving the three their privacy. Emily sat herself properly on the sofa, staring into her hands, ashamed.

"Emily," JJ began, "how are you really feeling?"

If she was going to be honest, Emily felt awful. She was tired, afraid, sad and isolated. But being Emily Prentiss she wasn't about to say that to anyone. When it came to feelings she considered herself her own counsellor. She didn't need to bounce her emotions off other people; she did her own thinking and problem-solving.

"I guess I was just tired," she tried, knowing how stupid it sounded, and predictably receiving disbelieving looks from both Hotch and JJ.

"Emily, we need your honesty here," Hotch said in a firmer tone. "You're obviously not as okay as you say you are because you just passed out on the job. We need to know what's going on."

"We're not blaming you," JJ added. "What happened to you last week in Colorado was awful and no one's expecting you to have dealt with it that quickly."

"I can handle it," she responded automatically. Standing up, she made for the door but Hotch stepped in front of her with a determined expression. Emily let out a frustrated groan and sat back down, wanting to just get out of here and away from all the questions. They only served to bring everything to the forefront of her mind which was the exact opposite of what she wanted. Emily just wanted to forget. It was easier than dealing with the difficult emotions.

Apparently that wasn't happening.

"You can't always take the easy way out, Em." It was as if JJ had read her mind. She resumed her position of staring into her hands and did not respond. "Look what it's doing to you already. If you continue on like this it's going to catch up to you - it _already is _catching up to you."

Inside Emily knew JJ was right. Each day since her attack had been hard but today had by far been the worst. And this was despite the team having no idea of the true amount of horror Emily had suffered through. They only thought she'd been beaten up badly: they were clueless that there had been anything more than that. Since that was the way Emily wanted things to stay, she knew she couldn't open up about anything - because if she did, they would find out about _everything. _And coming clean about everything would be more painful than anything she'd ever suffered through in her entire life.

She was far from ready to embrace the pain. It was easier just to feel numb; to blank it out and try to forget it had ever happened.

However, she couldn't just tell them she was fine. JJ and Hotch would never believe that, not now that she'd been stupid enough to let her guard down.

Lost for words, she didn't respond, but kept staring into her hands.

"At the very least take the day off," Hotch insisted. "In fact, you're taking a week and that's an order. And JJ, I'm ordering you to go with her. Make sure she goes to bed."

"Of course," JJ replied.

Emily found herself following JJ's footsteps. Still in a daze, she could barely remember being helped up off the couch; could barely make sense of the fact that she was walking down the corridor through the building with concerned eyes of the rest of the team gazing at her as the two girls left. She scarcely noticed as they entered JJ's car and she simply sat there, staring out of the window yet not taking in any of the scenery, her thoughts haunted by Cyrus's actions. It was only when JJ brought her inside, upstairs to the guest bedroom, that she suddenly snapped out of it as she looked at the bed in fear.

"I'm not tired," she said, turning back around. JJ yanked her arm and pulled her back.

"Hotch's orders. And mine now. You need to sleep, Emily. When's the last time you slept? Aside from fainting in the middle of the bullpen earlier?"

Not properly since the night of Cyrus' attack. But that was beside the point.

JJ sighed and pulled one of her nightgowns out of her cupboard, handing it to Emily. Realizing there was no point in arguing, Emily took the nightgown and put it on as slowly as possible, delaying the moment where she would have to get into the bed and face her nightmares. It was so ironic, she realized. Here she was, this top-notch FBI agent who dealt with criminals day in and day out, yet she was afraid of something as simple and ordinary as sleeping.

_And you call yourself strong, _she chastised herself. _You're pathetic, Prentiss. It's no wonder Cyrus was able to hurt you so badly when you practically let him._

The thought was irrational but it provided an explanation, albeit a false one, for why this had had to happen.

Emily had majored in psychology and should have known this. Denial is a funny thing.

When she finally ran out of reasons to delay the inevitable, she stood in front of the bed, hating the sight of it. Her eyes made their way to JJ's, silently pleading to be let off the hook, begging her not to make her go through this, but JJ stood there adamantly. There really was no getting out of it. Sighing, Emily climbed into the bed.

She'd thought that JJ would leave her alone and then she could just lie there awake, but to her annoyance, JJ climbed onto the other side of the bed and sat there watching her. Apparently she had taken Hotch's orders of making sure she slept very seriously.

Finally admitting defeat, Emily allowed her eyes to close. The images came rushing back and she could hear his voice echoing in her head, growing louder and louder as she slowly fell asleep. Unable to bear it, she tore her eyes open again and looked up at JJ, the fear evident in her features. She didn't realize her hands were trembling.

"I can't…" she finally confessed.

"Talk to me, Em." JJ's voice was concerned and unjudgemental. There was nothing forceful, no pressure, just a gentle coaxing that it was okay for Emily to open up, if she wanted to.

Emily sat herself upright, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them in a defensive position. She could feel the tears coming and fought them away. She was about to speak out but she was _not _going to cry.

Drawing a shaky breath she said "I still see him, Jayje. I still feel him. It's like reliving it again and again."

She felt a wave of guilt as she saw the look in JJ's eyes change to one of sadness. Guilt, accompanied by fresh pain as she finally stopped fighting the dams and allowed the floodgates to open. It took all her strength not to break down there and then.

"He more than injured me, JJ."

"I know, Em." But JJ was only referring to what she thought she knew: the emotional pain.

"No you don't," Emily responded, her stomach twisting into knots. "I don't mean the emotions. I mean when I was captured. You have no idea."

JJ was frowning from confusion. "Then tell me." It was a request rather than a demand. The statement was open-ended, leaving Emily free to diverge information as she chose. However, Emily shook her head. She wasn't ready, not by a mile.

"I'm scared," she admitted, cringing at how weak it sounded.

"If I promise to stay here with you, will you try and sleep?" JJ bargained.

For a second, Emily's face turned cold as an old childhood memory came back to her. It was back when she was just a five year old girl, long before she'd mastered the art of compartmentalization and concealing her feelings. She had woken up from a nightmare, as kids do, and was scared, but when she screamed for her mother, the ambassador came into the room looking irate, and scolded Emily.

"_Stop being so weak and pathetic," she chastised. "Your ridiculous crying isn't going to get you anywhere and it certainly isn't going to do me any favours having a whiney kid for a daughter. Now grow up, and go to sleep."_

It was the opposite of what any child should expect from her mother. At five years old, a kid would want to be held by their mother and told that it was okay, and that no there weren't any monsters under the bed. But Emily had never had that. In fact, only one word stuck out from the memory.

_Pathetic._

But as she saw JJ's expression, she knew that this time it was different. JJ's features weren't judgemental or scolding. They were warm and caring - exactly the way Emily wished her mother's eyes had been all those years ago. Seeing this, her own expression softened. It was okay to be vulnerable in front of JJ.

"Can you wake me up if I start dreaming?"

"Of course."

Finding comfort in that statement, Emily closed her eyes again. Instinctively she curled into a tight ball, an arm wrapped around JJ's waist. The feeling of closeness to the other woman brought mild relief in knowing that JJ would be there for her as she slept. As she drifted off, she felt JJ's hand rest on her shoulder, and she found that the echoes of Cyrus' voice were slightly more distant than before.

JJ's presence still didn't stop her from waking up screaming. But it did make the nightmares just a tiny bit more bearable.

**A/N: Hmm I dunno. Does anyone see a possible Emily/JJ coupling here? Please R&R and state whether you want me to pair them or not. Ideas and suggestions are also welcome. Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So last chapter I posed the question as to whether readers wanted me to pair Emily and JJ. So far I have received mixed responses, so for now I am going to state that I remain on the fence and will decide their relationship status at a later point in the fic.**

**On that note, thank you once again to everyone who reviewed! The amount of e-mails in my inbox from is somewhat overwhelming at the moment! I love you all, your reviews make my day.**

**Chapter 3**

_It was different this time. Emily was tied up in a chair and being forced to watch as Cyrus beat up JJ. She begged him to stop but her cries went unheard - he grabbed JJ's ponytail and yanked her towards him, hitting her and ripping her clothes off. Emily could see the blood trailing down JJ's face, but try as she might, she couldn't release herself from the ropes which held her. Then Cyrus went down on JJ, kissing her and raping her, all while Emily sat there, helpless, unable to do a single thing about it._

"_Please let her go!" she pleaded. "Please don't do this to JJ! Take me instead!"_

_Cyrus turned and allowed JJ's body to crumple to the floor. Emily winced in horror as she realized JJ was dead._

"_Fine," Cyrus sneered. "You asked, so you shall get." He advanced towards her and Emily shrank back in terror as his hands found their way to her trousers and yanked them down._

"_Emily," came a voice, and Emily realized that JJ's body had resurrected and was now gazing at her. She felt a mild sense of relief - her angel had come back to save her. "Emily, wake up!"_

Her eyes flickered open and she found that she was back in JJ's bedroom. It only took one look at JJ for her to break down and let the tears flow.

"He had you," she choked. JJ wrapped a comforting arm around her.

"Shh, he doesn't have me," JJ responded. "I'm right here and Cyrus can never hurt you or anyone else again."

Emily allowed herself to relax. According to her clock it was now late afternoon so she'd managed to sleep a few hours at any rate. As the nightmare diminished from her mind, she got out bed, knowing that sleep would not come again.

"Can I take a shower?" she asked. JJ nodded and got her a towel. Emily ran the shower so that it was scalding hot, far hotter than she usually had it. She needed the heat right now, anything to try and blank out the feeling of Cyrus' touch upon her skin. She grabbed a flannel and started scrubbing herself so hard that her skin turned red. When she was done, she felt only mildly better.

Catching sight of herself in the mirror, she flinched as she took note of the depressive face staring back at her. Straightening her shoulders, the towel wrapped around her body, she attempted to recompose her features. But the frown line wouldn't quite disappear and the eye bags were too prominent. So this was what became of you when you were held captive, abused and practically raped, she thought sadly. She shoved the thought away as the pain began to resurface.

She opened the door and stepped out. JJ was waiting for her in the bedroom, but upon seeing her, Emily found herself taking a step back. In just a towel she suddenly felt very, very exposed. She stood behind the door and took a few deep breaths. The last time she'd been exposed in front of someone had been with Cyrus. While she reasoned that JJ was safe, and that she wasn't exactly naked anyway, the psychological pain of Cyrus's captivity still told her that she couldn't be like that in front of anyone. It was too dangerous and painful.

"Em?" came JJ's soft voice. Bracing herself, Emily opened the door again. Standing in the gap she didn't move. Her arms held the towel tightly around herself and she stood slightly hunched. JJ wasn't a profiler but she immediately picked up on Emily's hesitation.

Then came the panic. It started with Emily's hands trembling and she could feel her heart rate rising. Her head was spinning and she felt intense fear at the sight in front of her.

"Get away!" she cried out. "Stay away from me! Don't look at me!"

JJ hastily took a few steps back and turned around so that she was facing a wall. Emily sighed with relief as her head stopped spinning and her heart rate returned to normal. On recomposing herself she mentally cursed herself for allowing her mask to slip again, but knowing there was nothing she could do about that now, she took a few cautious steps into the room and went to retrieve her clothes.

"Are you okay? What was that about?" inquired JJ in a worried tone.

Emily did not speak as she dressed herself, ashamed of her outburst. Her walls were cracking, she realized - and soon they would tumble down leaving anyone able to see right through to her soul. The prospect made her feel bare even after she had fully dressed. She had grown so used to keeping up appearances, so used to putting up defences and encasing herself in armour, that to suddenly have it ripped away by one event was terrifying.

The worst thing was, she couldn't remember how to build them back up again.

"I'm sorry," she offered.

"Don't say that," JJ insisted. "Don't let Cyrus make you feel guilty. He's the only one that has anything to feel guilty about."

"Damn right he does," Emily muttered.

JJ's phone buzzed.

"Agent Jareau? Hotch, hi. She did, but she's awake now. I'll let you know. Okay. Bye."

Emily's lips were pursed as she thought what a burden she was being to the rest of the team. In most cases, her and JJ's roles were completely reversed, whereby she was the one holding it together for everyone else's sake. It was the way it should have been this time too, only it hadn't been any of the other team members in Cyrus' captivity.

"They shouldn't worry," Emily said, and the statement was met with denial.

"Of course they worry," JJ replied. "They look out for you the same way you would if it had been any of them."

It wasn't really the same though. They were looking out for her by speaking out; meanwhile, she was looking out for Reid by keeping the truth to herself.

**A/N: So, my question for you reviewers this chapter is: Will Lamontagne. JJ's boyfriend. For the sake of realism he's gotta come back home after work, doesn't he? So, how is he going to react to this situation (Since I can't really remember how to portray his character)? Ideas/suggestions greatly welcome here.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and especially who gave me advice on Will's character. I hope I do him justice in this chapter. Um…yeah that's it I think. Read on!**

**Chapter 4** _(JJ's POV)_

Emily, much later on, had picked up the book that lay on JJ's bedside table and was flicking through it. It wasn't as if she would enjoy it - JJ knew that she cast them off in favour of non-fictional academic reading - but it was a readily available distraction. Apparently Emily was partial to anything that did not require talking about Cyrus.

JJ was in the process of making dinner when Will returned home. With Emily still in her bedroom, she guided him into the kitchen and sat him down, so she could both talk and keep an eye on the food. Will was an understanding guy: being a detective enabled him to identify with some of the horrors that came with the job. When she told him about Emily, he looked at her with concern in his features.

"How is she?" he asked.

JJ fathomed that Emily would have been somewhat irate if she'd heard yet another person asking after her wellbeing. In that way, she knew Emily was introverted and liked people to see that she was capable of handling herself. JJ supposed that it came from the tension with her mother, but Emily so rarely spoke about her past that it was hard to say if that was the true reason for her tough outer persona.

"I don't know," she admitted to Will. "She doesn't want to open up about it. I tried to get her to talk, but for some reason she won't. Or is afraid to. This is Emily; she doesn't do talking about her feelings but I don't know what I'm supposed do if she won't tell me."

She could hear the defeat in her own voice. If Emily didn't want to talk then there was nothing she could do. And JJ so badly wanted to be there for her.

"All you can do for her at the moment is be there for her," Will advised. "You're being such a good friend just by doing what you're doing right now. She's been through a tough ordeal; give her some time and she'll come to you eventually."

"I think there might be more to it," she voiced. Something had been nagging her from earlier when Emily had had the near-panic-attack after her shower. She'd seen Emily get beaten before by an unsub, but usually after such an event she would pick herself up and hold it together. The fact that she now seemed to be falling to pieces didn't add up. The look in her eyes as she'd demanded that JJ didn't look at her had been…broken. And that didn't fit with simply getting beaten.

She hated to think what it did fit with.

"Well if there is then you can't make that assumption unless Emily outright tells you," said Will.

"I know…I just hate to see her looking so defeated."

"Come here," said Will, outstretching his arms. The cooking temporarily abandoned, JJ went over to him and sat on his lap as he embraced her. "Listen, JJ. I don't know Emily very well but from what I've seen she is an incredibly strong woman. She'll get through this."

JJ allowed a smile to grace her features and she buried her face into his chest. "If she'd been listening to that she would have appreciated it." Emily had always considered strength one of her assets.

"I hope so. Now go take care of the cooking. I don't know about you but I don't want to be eating soggy pasta with mushy veg."

"You and your stomach," JJ quipped, hopping off his lap and returning to the stove. "Get Emily - she's in my room - and then we can eat."

_(Emily's POV)_

The book wasn't particularly interesting; in fact it was something of a cliché. Guy meets girl, girl meets guy. They have a whirlwind romance but then disaster strikes and it all goes south. Oh, but then by some miracle it all works out and they run off together and live happily ever after. The end.

Oh well. It was something to occupy Emily's brain anyway.

She'd never paused to consider the concept of trivia - had never spared a moment for such little, unimportant things in life. It was therefore ironic that she was now starting to see the beauty in them. Those little, trival things - the ones she turned her head away from on the basis that they served no purpose whatsoever - actually provided a sense of relief. Emily had always dug deep into the things she considered important in life, sometimes so deep that it was overwhelming and actually a little scary. Her job, for instance, was always at the forefront of her mind, and with the horrors she faced she was always considering the what's, how's and why's of such tragedies. Sometimes it arrived at the point at which she felt so morbid that she wondered why she still bothered doing her job.

She now came to a new kind of realization, that sometimes it was good to take a step back and stop delving so far into the darkness. Sometimes it was good to embrace the trivia because it was shallow and easy. It meant no questioning or analyzing, only taking things at face value and without second-guessing it. It was a reminder that not everything was bad, or dark, or evil like the unsubs Emily faced day in and day out. It was like a painkiller for her soul, an old soul which had seen so much tragedy that it was a wonder that it hadn't shattered already.

JJ knocked on her door - or at least Emily thought it was JJ until she heard a male's voice calling her to dinner. Of course Will would be here, Emily realized. She was just so used to seeing JJ by herself at work that it had taken a moment to remember that she did in fact have a husband. Stating that she was coming, she put the book back down and stood up, checking her appearance in the mirror. The eye bags were terrible, but other than that she decided that she looked reasonable enough. She opened the door and made her presence known to the other two.

But when she saw Will she found herself wanting to shrink away again. She felt her hands start to tremble and her breathing become erratic as her mind projected the image of Cyrus onto him. She could almost see the flashes of memory of Cyrus flooring her and stripping her and she took some unsteady steps backwards, leaning against the wall to regain her balance. Looking away and feeling ashamed, she took a deep breath and reminded herself that it was only Will and Will would never hurt her in the same way Cyrus did.

Still, when she looked at him…

"Emily," came JJ's voice. She closed the door behind Will, leaving just the two of them.

"I don't know what came over me," said Emily.

"Yes you do. You studied psychology, Em. What aren't you telling me?"

It wasn't so much a demand as a plea, and with the way JJ voiced it, Emily couldn't bring herself to outright lie. JJ had clearly seen through the "It's nothing" façade already. Still, she felt horror engulf her as she knew she couldn't even begin to consider the possibility of telling the direct truth.

"I can't tell you," she finally relented.

"Why?"

_For so many reasons. _For not hurting Reid and the rest of the team. For differentiating herself from her heritage. For proving that she was strong and capable of handling what life threw at her. For the fact that it was her own stupid fault for not being strong enough to stop him from hurting her in the first place. And d last of all, for the fact that the pain of admitting what had happened would tear her to shreds and leave her open and exposed for everyone to see. A victim, that's what she would be.

"I just can't."

"_Emily." _JJ's voice had switched to a stern quality and Emily knew she wasn't dropping it that easily.

"It'll hurt too much."

"Then be strong and work through it. Please, Em."

The word 'strong' was finally what had the right effect on Emily as it hit her how much weaker it would appear if she wasn't dealing with the issue. Her own, outer, physical strength had always been important to her, but when it came to matters of life, one thing she'd taken away from her childhood was that the most important kind of strength in the world was the strength of the soul. It was this that finally allowed Emily to admit to herself that it was okay to not be okay sometimes. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself as the memory of Cyrus came to the forefront of her mind.

"He tried to rape me, JJ."

**A/N: So, what did you think? I decided to keep JJ and Will's relationship as it was rather than assume them being broken up because I wanted to keep it relatively in step with the tv series. I will now state that this probably isn't going to be an Em/JJ relationship, simply because it isn't that kind of story. It's a hurt/comfort, not a romance. Anyway, I hope no one who wanted that pairing decides to stop reading because of that! Please R&R like usual! I don't have a particular question for you guys this time, but I'm open to any suggestions.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Right, guys, I am really sad to say that this is the LAST chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you have all been absolutely wonderful and the feedback has been really overwhelming. That said, read on!**

**Chapter 5**

_This was why I hadn't wanted to tell _is what Emily would have been thinking if she hadn't been so consumed by the pain that she wasn't able to think in words. She could barely bring herself to make eye contact with JJ because the look on the younger woman's face was so sad - it was a look Emily never wanted to see, not especially since she was the one who had caused it.

The above reason was only a minor part in why Emily now regretted her decision to come clean. She'd known it would be painful, but she could already feel herself shattering as her mind, heart, body and soul were overloaded with a thousand tumultuous feelings, most of them centred around intense fear, despair and guilt.

What Emily had never learned was that the art of compartmentalization meant she had allowed all her difficult feelings and emotions to pile up over the years, with no emotional outlet. She didn't understand the concept of crying as actually having the purpose of making her feel better because all she'd ever known was her strength of character and ability to hold herself upright and mask the pain, even from herself. It was so deeply ingrained into her that she had to be strong all the time that she didn't know how to allow herself to succumb to the tears, especially in the presence of other people.

But even Emily had a limit, and today the pressure was too overbearing. She buckled onto her knees as tears would not hold themselves back any longer.

"He did wha…?"

JJ's voice was hoarse as she found herself lost for words but her caring nature enabled her to speak in actions instead. She was instantly at Emily's side holding her as her dams broke and she sobbed away the emotions, the tears carrying them away like a coursing river. In that moment, it was no longer about Emily trying to prove her strength because any strength she had left had exhausted itself. She was now drawing on JJ as a life support. She couldn't do it alone anymore.

More positively, though, the denial was gone and Emily was finally facing the problem rather than trying to bury it. No it hadn't suddenly disappeared, but at least she could finally start moving forward and heal.

"You need to tell the team," said JJ.

Five minutes ago Emily would have argued, but now she simply nodded in acceptance. The team - especially Reid - had the right to know.

"I'll tell them tomorrow," she said.

"No," said JJ. "When you return to work next week."

Emily sighed as she remembered Hotch's order. An entire week of doing nothing but wallow.

"I'd rather be working than sitting on my ass thinking about Cyrus," she grumbled. "When I work I can forget."

"Can you?" The question was slightly rhetorical. "Think about the kind of work we do, Em. It's not that Hotch thinks you can't do your job, but with the kind of cases we get you would probably find yourself reliving those worst moments when Cyrus had you. Hotch doesn't want you to have to face that so soon after it happened. And before you argue with me, take yesterday as an example - you fainted on the job and that was _without _a rape case. You're not ready, Em, no matter how much you want to be."

"I can -" Emily paused mid-sentence. She'd been about to say "I can handle it" but realized those were her exact words from yesterday. No sooner had she stated that she could handle it had she passed out as her body couldn't take it. She realized JJ was right. She wasn't ready yet. "Okay. You're right," she conceded.

"Come to dinner?" said JJ.

Emily nodded. "Okay."

At least she didn't panic the second time she saw Will; albeit she did feel a bit awkward. She didn't speak except to politely respond, all the while picking at her pasta with not much enthusiasm. Will didn't question her about the situation, something she was extremely grateful for.

She felt different from before. Not exactly light; more like a little less heavy. The feeling was a first, having never admitted to suffering before. To state the cold, hard truth, before she'd come clean to JJ, she'd thought that if people knew she was suffering she would look pathetic. It was a ridiculous mindset, but given her background she'd learned very quickly to keep her feelings to herself, and had grown up associating opening up to people with harsh judgement. As a young girl, she'd learned that if she cried she'd get punished, not sympathy. Thus as she'd gotten older, she'd successfully mastered the art of compartmentalization and hiding her emotions behind facades, because in the end it didn't matter who she told: it still didn't change the fact that Cyrus had abused her and nearly raped her.

JJ had never once judged her or thought her weak. She hadn't yelled at her for crying, or called her pathetic. She'd simply held her as the worst part of the pain consumed her soul like a raging fire, her gentle touch acting like wind, not quite putting out the flames but cooling them ever so slightly. It was something Emily's mother had never done - something her mother probably should have done, but the Ambassador had always been too wrapped up in politics to be able to be a good mother.

JJ was the caring presence Emily had never felt before in her life.

When Emily walked back into work the next week, she was greeted with smiles and welcomes, and for the first time in a while she was able to return the smiles genuinely. It wasn't perfect yet - she still woke up some nights from the nightmares, occasionally in tears - but it wasn't so bad anymore that it would affect her job and her life. However, the contentment she felt as she walked in side by side with JJ was tainted with the pit in her stomach as she knew there was still one more thing she had to do.

The team were already aware that she had an announcement to make, but when she stood in front of them, all of their eyes on her expectantly, she found herself stalling. It had been hard enough telling JJ let alone a whole team of people, and she didn't feel ready. But looking into the eyes of the media liasion, she remembered what JJ had said before about being strong enough to work through the pain, and knew that there was no way she wasn't doing this.

Thankfully it wasn't as bad as the first time. What hurt the most wasn't so much talking about Cyrus as the reactions of the team. For an instant, she felt as though she was simply hurting them, but she knew that it would be unfair if they didn't now. Reid, particularly, looked as though he was wracked with guilt, and Emily made a mental note to remind him that it wasn't his fault. It had been her decision alone to tell Cyrus she was the FBI agent. That had been beyond Reid's control.

After the announcement was made, the mask slipped back into place. But this time Emily wasn't hiding away from anyone or concealing anything. The mask was simply there because that was a natural part of her introverted personality. With the events that had transpired, Emily had learned something important:

_In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. _~Albert Shweitzer.


End file.
